The Empty Throne
by forevercreating
Summary: [After ending of 5th season] Guinevere is the Queen of Camelot. She rules with loyal knights and loving people, but no servant-friend to comfort her and certainly no husband to keep her moving forward. But perhaps something that Arthur did leave behind will bring hope for Camelot once again.


Her fingers gently traced the outline of the ring that was passed on to her by Arthur through Gaius. She would have thought that he would place a more experienced person to rule, not Guinevere. The metal gleamed, somehow solemnly, in the light that poured through the glass windows. The hall was filled with people that all awaited the news of the king. Still it felt too empty and aware of the domineering presence that it was lacking: its king. With the next breath that she took, Guinevere knew that the Once and Future King was at peace. Immediately she felt the welling in her throat and tried to swallow it back down. Hot tears threatened to flow from her chocolate brown eyes if she said a word.

She had cried too many times over the fact that he might not come back. As she sat on the throne Gwen knew that now was not a time for she should be happy that Arthur was safe. But no matter how many times she told herself to be happy, the exact opposite came. She might shed tears for his absence later that night, but now was her time to show her capability as Camelot's Queen. If she cried, she would be seen as just a woman. They would think she was weak and would leave this kingdom to ruin.

The knights, she knew, never doubted her surety for reigning in Arthur's stead since Arthur trusted her with the whole Kingdom. There had been some doubts from the higher ranking persons of the kingdom that felt unnerved by a Common Woman Queen. She sometimes doubted herself the moment after she was crowned Queen of Camelot and wife of the King. But Arthur had always been there assuring her that this was where she belonged.

Closing the ring around her fist, she looked up at Leon, the Immortal Knight. The nickname stuck after so many close counters to death only to be revived again. Although this time he did not smile as he normally would. Gwen knew that the Knights were closer to Arthur than she would ever know. His death would affect them all one way or another. She was glad that she still had people she could trust now that she would be ruling alone. But in fact, that wouldn't be entirely true. She would still rely on the wisdom of Sir Leon and Gaius as well as the concerns of her people.

Nodding to Leon, Gwen noticed the tight line that the man's lips formed and pain stretched behind his eyes. He slowly turned towards the awaiting crowd and spoke.

"The King is dead," Leon announced, almost unwillingly. He paused before continuing, "Long live the Queen!"

The room, she could feel, silently mourned for their beloved king, but their hearts leaped out of their mouths to repeat 'Long live the Queen!'

She wanted them to stop chanting those words, but she set her jaw and forced a smile. She felt the phrase 'Long live the King/Queen!' was a curse. She thought that it caused the death of her husband, but she quickly reminded herself that it was Mordred was the one who struck the fatal blow. The sweet, innocent Druid boy that Morgana had such a heart for. She did not understand the importance of their betrayal. Gaius had told her that some men have destinies that are so tightly wound together that it is impossible to break and some things are meant to happen.

Arthur dying.

Gwaine dying.

Elyon….

The chanting had died off some hours ago and yet Gwen still sits on the throne. The sun has sent leaving only candles lit. Everyone had gone except Sir Leon.

"My Lady?" he asked cautiously. Gwen had no idea how long she had been sitting in one position. But it must have scared Leon quite a bit to get that look on his face.

"I apologise," Gwen replied with a soft smile. And then she chuckled softly, "You'll just have to accept an apology without any excuses. I am afraid I do not have any as of the moment."

Leon nodded and then paused. "Would you like me to leave you to your thinking?"

"Ah, no. I think I'll be off to be now, thank you. Would you care to escort me?"

"Whatever you wish, My Lady," Sir Leon replied courteously as he extended a bent arm for Gwen to take.

"How is Sir Percival?" Gwen asked when she had enough of the silence in the halls as they walked. She was one of the first to see Gwaine's body. She thought that they had done a funeral service earlier that day, but Gwen figured that she wasn't mentally present at the time. Leon told her that Sir Percival attended, but he could not keep silent.

"Is it a crime to mourn for your own?" Gwen asked and she could see the shock on Leon's face. He thought he had said something terribly wrong.

"Oh no My Lady," He stumbled. "You know we were all very close. However, Sir Gwaine, Sir Percival and Sir Elyon were closest to each other. It was hard for Percival to lose Elyon and now Gwaine. I'm not sure if he will be able to serve if his mental health is in such disarray."

"Gaius will tend to him I'm sure," Gwen replied smoothly, trying not to bring up memories of her brother. That's not what she needed right now. "But tell him he's still a Knight of Camelot and he can take as much time as he needs off."

"I will relay the message," Sire Leon smiled. He stopped walking and it only occurred to Gwen that they had reached her chambers that were joined with Arthurs. She could feel some blood drain from her face as she stared at the wooden doors. Noticing this, Sir Leon gently placed his hands on Gwen's arms to steady her if she were feeling dizzy. "Is everything alright My Lady?"

"I hope so Leon," Gwen muttered.

"I'm sorry?"

"Nothing Sir Leon. Thank you for escorting me and Good Night," Guinevere smoothed over with a smile as she opened the door and closed it behind her. She walked over to the wooden table that she and Arthur would often have dinner together and sat down in a chair. Looking around the room, it felt void and lifeless. She couldn't look at the rest of the room without tear blurring her vision. Gwen whipped her head forward as she brought her hands up on the table. They ached, perhaps from behind clenched into fists an entire day. But as she unfurled them, Gwen wept at the Pendragon ring that rested in the palm of her hand only to grip it tight again.


End file.
